A Rant In One Chapter
Today I attended the funeral of my brothers’ mentor; a man who saved my wretched life years ago. Albus Dumbledore was a wise and noble man, and without him my life would have ceased before I turned eighteen. You see, my parents were supporters of You Know Who, yes Voldemort. I’m not afraid to say his name anymore because I realized that he’s not as bright as he thought he was. I took from him what he held most precious, all of them. All you have to do is look in the secret compartments at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and you will see how I, Regulus A. Black, an insignificant outsmarted the most powerful wizard of our age.
Am I bragging you ask? Most certainly. Writing this is my sole outlet and it will only be seen by my eyes. I know, I’m pathetic, but alas, my life as Regulus Black is over, ended before it truly began all those years ago. I became someone else and started a new life. For a while I believed that the Quibbler would blow my new life out of the water, but alas, that lovely scrumpet Doris Purkis thought I was Sirius. Life is good and Voldemort is dumb; too stupid to put two and two together, knowing my idiot, noble brother was in Azkaban and not realizing that Stubby Boardman was in fact, ME!
I had to sacrifice my name, my appearance and my share of the Black Family fortune but I retained my life. Albus Dumbledore is responsible for this and to him I owe my life-debt. Here I am thirty-four years old and finally growing up. My life in the shadows is over, my brother dead and the life-debt to Dumbledore now belongs to one Harry Potter; the boy who lived, the kid with the stupid glasses who if I were at Hogwarts with him I would have called Scarhead and much worse. Who’d have thought.
I had kept my eyes on the young Potter over the years, never telling Dumbledore about the horcruxes. Little did the old wizard realize I had all but one and that was because Potter was too well protected all these years. Grimmauld Place, the house both Sirius and I hated so much was the perfect place to hide all of them, as it’s a maze unto itself. Transfiguring the goblet of Ravenclaw into an ordinary piece of Black Family silver left it unrecognizable and it is this piece of magic that would astonish those who knew me. Sirius was the king of transfiguration, a class I could barely pass; but I managed this one thing and for that I am most proud.
If the rumors are true, the young Potter unwillingly gave his blood and the Dark Lord returned to life. Funny, horcrux number six was already used; Dumbledore destroyed one and I have the others, but the joke is one Voldemort himself, as by taking Harry’s blood he has made the youth virtually unbeatable. Yes he can kill Harry, but Harry can be regenerated and will be when Voldemort finally dies; you see, I was quiet adept at charms, as was the young Lily Evans. She used a charm on Harry before Voldemort murdered her, and it was that charm that saved her young son; but it was my charm that turned him into a receptacle for the Dark Lords powers and opened the possibilities of turning it all around to bite the Dark one in the proverbial backside.
Soon the Dark Lord will fall at the hands of Harry Potter, and I will do what I must to assist him in this noble cause; this is the debt I owe my late head master. I will serve the son of a mudblood and blood traitor because I must; even though it is this boy’s family who were responsible for turning my brother against his family and ultimately this child was responsible for Sirius’ untimely demise.
I remember growing up wanting more than anything to be like Sirius, but alas, when his sorting into Gryffindor displeased my parents, I didn’t have the courage to follow him. The truth is the desire was there, but strength wasn’t. I was stupid. Yes I will admit it. Just as I’ll admit that I myself am full of bunk with what I’ve spewed thus far on this parchment. I always thought I was a snake amongst the snakes, but alas, in school I was a lion amongst the snakes and now is my time to roar.
Who am I really? I am Regulus A. Black, the pathetic younger brother of Sirius, and the person who will be leaving shortly for Godric’s Hollow to stand beside the Boy Who Lived in my brothers’ stead. Merlin help the wizarding world if we fail.
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